


Saying Little, Saying Much

by quartile



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Drabble, Experimental, Flash Fiction, M/M, Post-Retcon Meteor, Wordcount: 100, davekat - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 07:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7925416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quartile/pseuds/quartile
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Moments on the post-retcon meteor. An experiment in five 100-word fics. </p>
<p>1. Dave's ordinary eloquence short-circuits<br/>2. Karkat finds a drowsy Dave at his door<br/>3. The Mayor catches on<br/>4. Skip this one, they deserve some privacy<br/>5. A question of free will vs. fate </p>
<p>(You may just want to click "Entire Work.")</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New file: untitled.txt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the meteor. A deleted journal entry. After the events of _Lullaby_.

hes not here  
he was trembling and he let me

why did he go  
i have new welts on my arm more on my back  
long down my spine

he was growling that good growl he said it was ok

oh my god

what did he say  
i fell asleep  
did i do something wrong

fuck

he was warm he tasted  
like  
like black pepper when he

kissed me back

god my stomach

do i go find him is that what im supposed to do

“red for you”  
i remember

what have i started

what the fuck do i do


	2. Holding Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the meteor. A very late or very early hour.

Uncertain, in your doorway. He's sought you out. Hair mussed, one hand shielding his eyes.

"Where'd you go?" 

"Shh." You stand. "I figured I'd let you sleep."

"Are you coming back?" Words are tugged through fog. 

You guide him to your pile. He curls into stale sweaters and snuggleplanes. Five hours ago, he was kissing you feverishly; now he rubs at his face and looks up.

"Karkat?"

"Right here."

You finish writing in your journal, though you won’t ever forget. Longing, belonging. His heat so intense. You set it aside, sink yourself into the pile, and burrow in, enfolding him.


	3. Foundation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the meteor. The Mayor muses on two frequent visitors to Can Town.

A child’s game this is not. To build is a serious matter. I create what was not there, and stabilize it, and make it last. These two are building something. Enough cans become a wall. I see the blueprints they do not yet let themselves see. Enough walls become a home. They are good boys. Strong hearts. They will need this foundation. To build is to have hope. To construct something better, can by can. To cast aside old rulers, old rules. I know how it feels to be so moved. I know how it feels to want a revolution.


	4. In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the meteor. A scene. Explicit.

_That’s two,_ he says. Your bulge lashes wetly at his wrist. _Do you remember your safeword?_ You nod, trying not to keen. He adjusts his hand. _That’s three._ Knuckling the walls of your nook. _Please_ slips from your mouth. _Please, what?_ He laps at the velvet base of one horn. _I can’t._ Sucking your breath across your fangs. _Take it. I know you can._ He bites his lip. Adjusts again. _Four._ It presses. You’re shaking. He strokes the root of your bulge from inside. Writhing and clenching and taut. He retracts and then—oh—it’s in he’s all in— _oh_


	5. Knights of Doom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the meteor. Dave discovers something worse than stumbling across dead Daves. Trigger warning for gore, doomed timeline deaths.

we cant change reality you said. bullshit i said. i spun back to the start of the track. da capo. to reroute this meaningless trajectory. to prove we matter. then i spotted it – you – splayed back broken in the lab. rewind, play. you. punctured like st sebastian. rewind. you. bloody limbs in gray jeans. we cant keep meeting like this. rewind. you. windpipe crushed purple. his vise-like grip stained red. why cant i save you? i home in on you (mine, in the only timeline that matters) and lock the turntables away. to carpe, as youd say, the fucking diem.


End file.
